I spent a lot of time over the next day thinking about the situation with Grace. I was hired to tutor her, and it was actually going pretty well despite her academic limitations. Her mom had basically guilted her into blowing me a few weeks back to say thank you, but we had gotten over the incredible awkwardness of that episode and managed to get some work done. Still, Grace spent a lot of time teasing me, especially once she figured out that I was sleeping with her mom. Between admiring her tight teen body and hearing her say that what I was doing with her mom made her horny, I was going nuts! Having her mom say that Grace was open to the idea of fucking me and that she (Lindsey) supported it made things even harder. In fact, I was hard a lot of the time thinking about Grace and her luscious 18-year-old body!
To complicate things, my relationship with Lindsey was a tidal wave of passionate sex mixed with some twisted and erotic mother-daughter fantasies. Lindsey apparently told Grace about everything we did, which was pretty screwed up, but a huge turn-on for all of us at the same time. Visit after visit, Lindsey and I had some wild sex and explored the intimate and illicit dimensions of our sexual games. She had started down that path just to motivate me to do well by her daughter. As the weeks went by, we had fallen into a pattern of incredible sex when Grace wasn't around. That was a bonus I'd never expected and was delighted to find. Throught it all, however, she teased me about wanting to have sex with my former student, pretended to be her while I bent her over the tutoring table, and finally took me into Grace's room so that I could fuck her on Grace's bed. God, this was complicated!
There were two things clear in my mind, though. First of all, I was hired to do a job and I would keep doing it to the best of my ability. Second, I was having the most amazing sex of my life with someone else's wife, I didn't have a trace of guilt about that, and I didn't plan to stop. Oh, and one more thing was crystal clear: if it came right down to it, I was going to fuck Grace one way or another.
Friday was kind of a wasted day at school. Half the kids had left early for the long President's Day weekend, and there was an air of "are we really doing this?" in every class. The hours seemed to drag by. My schedule wasn't helping either--classes first thing, then a two-hour break, and then two more classes. That always made the day seem longer.
Anyway, I was packing up after my last period American Studies class when I heard the flat tone that signaled an email on the school account. Wanting to clear the decks before the holiday, I had taken care of every last task during the middle of the day, so I hoped it would be something simple. Of course, I wasn't that lucky.
"Hey Steve!" (the email read)
Grace has an essay due after the long weekend, and we were wondering if you could spare some time this weekend to help her stay on track. She really could use a good couple of hours with you. I know this is last minute, but you've been so great about spending extra time here that I thought it was worth asking! I would be extremely grateful.
Lindsey"
Well, shit. I had planned to work on the kitchen remodel since my ski plans got cancelled. Still, I told myself, you ARE supposed to be helping this kid pass, right? It's not all about getting laid or admiring her ass. Well, maybe it is a little bit...after all, her innuendo was still there in the email.
"Hi Lindsey--" (I wrote in response)
I could spend a couple of hours any of the three days, but I have to work on my kitchen this weekend, so I'd like to do it all at once and save myself the travel time. Which day works best?
Steve"
"Thank you so much!" came the reply.
"Let's plan for Sunday so that she has a day off before school starts again. I'd still like her to see you Tuesday and Thursday next week, and I'm hoping we can have a strategy session on Thursday afternoon. If that works, let's make it 11:00 on Sunday. I'll make sure to feed you to keep your strength up!"
"11:00 on Sunday will be fine. Thursday afternoon sounds like a good idea as well.
I really do appreciate your commitment to Grace's success."
Two can play innuendo, right?
Friday night I went out with friends and got home very late. Saturday, though, I got an early start and stripped all the 1980's linoleum off the kitchen floor. Scraping up the old glue was a pain, but by mid-afternoon I was able to repair the subfloor and get things ready for my new tiles. Not wanting to start a process I couldn't finish, I called it a day, went for a run, and then treated myself to a pizza. By 10 o'clock, I was sound asleep.
The only good thing about tutoring on the weekends--besides the extra cash!--is driving down without traffic. That put me in a good mood. It also gave me a little extra time, so I stopped at Starbucks to get myself some energy. As I pulled into the parking lot, inspiration struck me, so I parked and texted Grace.
"Want anything from Starbucks? I'm stopping on my way over."
After a few seconds, the answer came back: "Yes please! Grande Pumpkin Spice Flat White!"
"You got it!" I responded, dismayed at the prospect of ordering a damn pumpkin spice anything.
Her reply had no words in it, just "tx" and a kissy-face emoji. Gen Z at its finest! I ordered, stood around while they made drinks for people who weren't there, and finally got my drink and Grace's. I got them both safely to the car across the crust of ice on the sidewalk and drove the last five minutes to the house. It had snowed a little bit overnight and the edges of the road were coated with slush thrown back by the plows. Grace's house hadn't been plowed yet--I've always wondered how snowplows deal with a quarter-mile of curving gravel driveway. The lawns on either side were beautiful blankets of snow punctured by tufts of taller grass.Anyway, my car left parallel tracks through the thin layer of snow as I pulled into my usual spot.
When I knocked, it was Grace that opened the door for once. She was dressed for Sunday morning: fuzzy socks, yoga pants, and a hoodie. Her eyes didn't look quite open yet and her hair was tousled from sleep. All in all, she looked ravishing. I grinned and handed her the flat white.
"Looks like you could use some waking up!" I said cheerfully.
"Oh, god yes!" she chirped. "I was up really late!"
"So let's take a few minutes to let it work--we don't have to start right away, you know?"
"Okay," she smiled, letting me in and closing the door behind me.
I made my way to the kitchen table and set down my drink and my portfolio to take off my jacket. When I hung it over the back of the chair, though, I noticed Grace wasn't behind me. I turned, and she was standing by the stairs looking into the next room.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Oh...sorry. I was just thinking that if you really don't mind letting me wake up a little, could we go out here to drink this? It's so warm and I always have coffee there if I have time."
"Sure," I said. "Where is "out here"?"
"Come on--I'll show you!" she replied with a smile.
I walked over to the stairs and she led me through a wide doorway into the next room. I'd never really looked into it before, and it was impressive. A wide leather couch and two wing-back chairs flanked a massive slate fireplace, and there were thick, colorful rugs on the dark wood floors, defining different seating areas. Tall French doors opened onto the patio facing the backyard, and there was a very pleasant mix of art and framed pictures on the walls. Just for clarity, it was three times the size of my living room.
"This is nice," I said in a soft voice.
"Oh...yeah. This is the family room. We're going to the sunroom, though."
"Lead on!" I grinned, trying to keep my house envy at bay.
On the far end of the family room was another set of French doors. Grace nudged one open and led me into a warm retreat of enormous porcelain tiles and dark wood trim. The room was about 20 by 20, and it consisted of three walls of windows overlooking the yard and the woods beyond. Everywhere I looked, I saw trees and plants--there was a staggering variety! A tall bamboo cluster grew out of a copper tub and brushed the ceiling. Orchids and succulents sprouted from oriental pots on the floor and on side tables. There were even some flowers forced to bloom out of season by the sun and warmth. There was even a small fountain splashing at the far side of the room.
"Wow!" I exclaimed. "This is great!"
Grace smiled. "It's always warm in here...that's why I love it!"
I tried not to imagine the expense: triple-paned glass, radiant heat, and a zone of its own on the HVAC system, not to mention the thousands of dollars worth of greenery. Oh, yeah--and the furniture. There was a low, sprawling sectional like the ones you'd see poolside at a resort: boxy frames of dark wood with wide white cushions and low backs. Excellent for lounging. Throw pillows with bright prints added splashes of color.
Grace stepped to one end of the deep couch and curled herself in the corner, her feet tucked up under her and her elbow resting on the low back cushion. She took a sip of her coffee and smiled.
"Thanks again for getting me this. It's my favorite!"
I nodded and toasted her with my own dark roast coffee as I sat down in the middle and stretched my legs out to rest my heels on the varnished planks of the coffee table. Then I took a sip and let my shoulders sink into a throw pillow as I gazed out across the snow and into the woods. We were quiet for a few minutes after that. I was content to let Grace wake up at her own pace, and I was perfectly happy to sit there drinking coffee and enjoying the view while I was on the clock.
For her part, Grace seemed to be fine with my decision to sit quietly. In most cases, she was a chatterbox, but whether it was the residual sleepiness or a more mature attitude coming out, she sat and sipped and only glanced my way occasionally. I did the same, admiring very briefly the slim line of her thigh or the curve of her lip as she smiled fractionally to herself.
Finally, though, our eyes met as we glanced at each other and she looked down abruptly.
"What's up, Grace?" I asked in a gentle voice.
"Well..." she began hesitantly. "I kinda have a question. Why are you helping me?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, searching her face for clues.
"Are you helping me for money, or because of my mom, or because you like me, or what?"
She was serious and I understood her confusion.
"Grace," I began. "I was hired to be your tutor. That part is totally clear, right?"
